


when it gets loud, i turn it up

by imaginarybarista



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Riding, Size Difference, and greg gets to be a gentle giant, because louis is a little pixie, louis wears greg's sweater, no seriously look at a picture it's adorable, teases him all night, then ends up begging for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarybarista/pseuds/imaginarybarista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Greg have a dinner party. People think he's the cute little boyfriend... but truly he's slightly slutty (but only for Greg). When all the guests go home, Greg carries him upstairs :) [also louis has a tendency to be loud and likes being praised yay] </p><p>'“Shut up,” answers Louis (just a tad huffily). “I blame the fucking sweater.”' (the whole thing in one line there ya go)</p>
            </blockquote>





	when it gets loud, i turn it up

**Author's Note:**

> AN: because emma, the greg/louis radio show, and otp: gentle giant and little pixie. Title because I had to use New Politics lyrics... their song Harlem has the following lyrics: “You’re so sweet, but I like it rough...I like fingers in your mouth...When it gets loud, I turn it up.” Also I tried to include every single thing all the anons talked about when discussing grouis on emma’s blog. (also some of the stuff that was said in the show they cohosted.) so. [no really when they co-hosted, greg actually asked Louis: "You like it like that?" I MEAN COME ON] [side note i wrote half of this two weeks ago and half of this tonight so i'm sorry if it seems jumpy?]

“ _Why_ do you do that?” Louis mutters as he yanks at his shirt to pull the hem down. It’s ridden up again because he’s had to go up on his tiptoes to get his favorite mug from the cupboard. Just like he has to every time Greg empties the dishwasher.

 

“D’you say something, sweets?” asks Greg cheerily as he wanders into the kitchen. He’s got a paper sack that Louis can see is heavy with cans from the grocery, yet Greg’s got it balanced on one hip easily propped up with one arm. Because Greg gets to be fucking superman and hold the heaviest bags and put stuff on the highest shelf... which, he’s doing this very instant.

 

“That!” Louis cries, setting down his empty mug just a bit too hard.

 

Greg’s face instantly changes to one of confusion. “That what?”

 

“You _always_ do that. The can thing.” Louis angrily wrenches the refrigerator door open, scans the shelves, and pulls down the carton of milk.

 

“... The can thing.” Greg’s cautious.

 

“Stop repeating me.” Greg rolls his eyes. “And stop putting the stuff I use on the highest shelves!”

 

“I don’t do that!” Greg’s defensive now, sneakily moving a can down from the shelf he’d put it on.

 

This time Louis rolls his eyes. “Wrong. My mug? Could barely reach it. And what do you want to bet that the hot chocolate mix is on the wrong shelf?”

 

Greg’s silent and just crouches down to stick extra jam jars in the lazy susan.

 

“HA!” Greg almost hits his head on the counter when Louis crows his triumph. “You’re a terrible boyfriend, you know that?” Louis is smirking and pointing above himself, where the tin of Ghirardelli sits on the second shelf.

 

With a frown, Greg strides past and plucks it from the second shelf. “No, I’m not.” He leans in for a peck. “I read the label, got the double dark stuff just like you asked me to,” he murmurs, kissing his boyfriend again. “I’m a very, very good boyfriend. Who buys the special kind of hot chocolate mix just for you.”

 

“Mmm,” Louis mumbles against Greg’s lips before he pushes at his chest. Greg’s a little stooped over just to kiss him and Louis has to bat away the finger that’s lifting his chin up so that their lips can meet. “A good boyfriend wouldn’t put my stuff where I can’t reach it,” he mutters, keeping up his grouch attitude.

 

“All you have to do is ask for help getting it down.” He laughs at Louis’s glare and earns a smack on the bum for it.

 

Louis just shakes his head and pours milk into his mug. “If you want hot chocolate, you may... help me by getting your mug.” He purposely doesn’t look at Greg, couldn’t handle the vindictive look on his face.

 

But Greg just sets the mug down, bends down a little, and presses a kiss to Lou’s cheek tenderly before nipping at his earlobe and moving away again before Louis can swat at him.

 

A couple minutes later, Lou brings out the two mugs, carefully setting them down on the coffee table before just as carefully settling himself in Greg’s lap so that they’re facing each other, bringing his hands up around Greg’s neck. He refuses to think about the fact that he has to raise his arms a little, or that they’re only at a more even eye level because Louis’s only gained height comes from sitting in Greg’s lap.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“For what?” asks Greg, before reaching for the remote to click the tv off. He tosses the clicker and it clatters on the coffee table before falling off. Eh. His arms automatically go to wrap around Louis’s waist, pull him in closer.

 

“Complaining. And calling you a bad boyfriend. You’re not,” he mumbles, looking down.

 

Greg just pulls Louis even closer, so that their noses are almost touching. He’s always liked Louis’s eyes like this, when Louis has to look up a little to make eye contact and they’re so close that he feels like he can count eyelashes. “I knew you didn’t mean it. But if it makes you feel better, you can make it up to me...”

 

Greg is kind of hoping for a “later” and expecting an eye roll, but hey, can’t blame a guy for trying. It’s just that everyone’s coming over tonight for a dinner party they’d planned, as a sort of celebratory “I have my dream job” and “we have an awesome home together now” and “holy fucking hell it’s 2014” party. Or something. Louis has just been calling it The Dinner Party, since it was his idea to do as little work as possible and hire somebody to do the cooking for them. Yet Louis had wanted to all the decorating himself, straightening up the house a little and picking out placemats and finding nice fabric napkins to put out, which was why Greg’s plans were to catch a match and listen to Louis grumble as he sat next to him on the couch folding aforementioned napkins.

 

But instead, Louis’s eyes get a dark glimmer and instead of wriggling _out_ of Greg’s lap, he’s twisting his hips and pressing down. _Down_.

 

The gasp that Greg lets out makes Louis’s smirk grow, and he leans up to bite Greg’s lower lip and threads his fingers in his hair, pulling lightly.

 

Greg can only slide his hands down, brushing over Louis’s hips then thighs and then they’re spanning his backside. He can’t help squeezing a little. His hands are pretty big, but they can’t even grab all of Louis’s arse. The thought makes him groan into Louis’s mouth, who reciprocates by bucking his hips a little, rubbing his arse into Greg’s crotch.

 

When Louis draws back, he’s breathless and grinning. “I, uhm, should change. And put the... the tablecloth out.” He’s so obviously in that _happy kiss daze_ thing that happens to him when he gets turned on, and Greg loves it. He doesn’t move his arms from where they’re looped around Louis so that when he tries to get up, he only succeeds in wriggling in Greg’s lap.

 

He reluctantly lets Louis get up when Louis leans in to kiss him chastely before pushing back on Greg’s chest to move away. Greg doesn’t pretend not to stare when Louis scuttles over to the stairs and darts up them.

 

When he comes back downstairs, he’s in turquoise pants (where the hell does he shop, Greg thinks briefly) and a stolen sweater. Greg raises an eyebrow at him, questioning, but Louis just sticks his nose in the air and flounces into the kitchen. Greg’s eyes catch where the bottom of the sweater comes down just beneath Lou’s ass, hiding the good bits but nonetheless stretched over the curve (like if he were putting on a dress, the fabric would catch there and get stuck, unable to get over the roundness... it’s a thought that sort of makes something in Greg’s throat stick.).

 

A few hours later, the flat is comfortably crowded. There are random glasses on all surfaces, water glasses and wine glasses and champagne flutes all mixed up because Greg and Louis haven’t exactly got more than six of each type of glass, and they’re more civilized than solo cups at this point in their life. Music the two of them had picked out earlier is pulsing out from small speakers on the mantle, and everybody is talking and laughing. Greg’s just about to search for his boyfriend and compliment the appetizers he chose when a warm weight bumps into his back. He turns around and has to look down, seeing a glowy Louis tipping his own head back to look up at Greg. “Hiya, rich successful boyfriend,” he coos, using Greg’s shoulders to yank himself high enough to smack a kiss to Greg’s lips.

 

“Why, Louis Tomlinson,” Greg teases, arms wrapping around Louis to steady him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you just wanted me for my sweaters and my money.”

 

“Don’t forget the mutual friends I now have and the best lay in England, either,” Louis snarks back. He might be a bit tipsy, and he’s a little off balanced as he lets himself slump into Greg’s hold.

 

Greg just kisses the top of his head, fingers lightly running over Louis’s back and stroking the soft fuzziness of the stolen sweater. “Thanks, babe, but we don’t need the whole party knowing some things.”

 

Louis’s got his nose pressed into Greg’s chest, but pulls back to smirk up at him. “Or do we?”

 

Greg can’t help that his cheeks pinken a little. Louis just gets a little... adventurous, when he’s had an especially strong martini or two.

 

They’re interrupted when one of the party guests comes by, arms glittering with bracelets and teeth sparkling white. This whole party is pretty and sparkling, Louis thinks. All the girls are wearing glittery shoes or makeup and jewelry, the mens’ hair is slicked back and shines with product. Even the candles and lights in the flat seem especially shiny tonight. Louis sighs into Greg’s upper arm while a party guest compliments the two of them.

 

“You two are just so adorable,” she cries, red lipstick smile pulled wide. Her bracelets clink together when she takes another sip of her wine. Louis smiles at her because he agrees. He likes that he’s pressed to Greg from head to toe, both hands clutching Greg’s arm. He’s allowed to be clingy sometimes, after all. It’s his party, he can do what he wants to? That might be Miley’s line. He isn’t really sure, the music and the giddiness helped by alcohol making him feel light and giggly as he twirls himself at the girl for a quick hug before spinning himself back at Greg. Thankfully, Greg catches him.

 

“Let’s find a place to sit,” Greg hints, one hand on the small of Louis’s back as he guides them to their sofa. Greg sits down, and Lou comes down with him. Louis immediately presses his whole body against Greg’s, like they’re snuggling together and about to watch a flick on date night. Lou’s hand is oh so casually dropped in the gap between Greg’s legs, and Louis slyly moves it closer and closer... until Greg hisses and grabs Louis’s wrist, pushing it away.

 

Louis glares at Greg. “C’mon,” he whines. “Just have a little fun!”

 

Greg rolls his eyes, because of course Louis would decide in the middle of their party that now would be the best time to get Greg hot and bothered, in front of all their friends and some of Greg’s co-workers. Jesus. Greg loves a handsy Louis, but a public orgasm is... a little too much for him. He’s all for fun, just look at his job description, but he needs at least a few shots or something to do that kind of thing.

 

It’s almost funny, because everyone at the party is enchanted with Louis. They all look at him and Greg with wonder in their eyes, and at least two of Greg’s co-workers have come to Greg to tell him that his boyfriend is quite a catch, both humorous and pretty as well. One misguidedly called him sweet and innocent, and Greg would never point it out but it’s only Louis’s youth that makes him seem that way.

 

Eventually it’s time for dinner, and Louis herds everyone towards the table where his carefully chosen napkins and cutlery are picked up by impressed guests. The food they ordered is lovely, and conversation flows easily, peals of laughter escaping as various dishes are passed around. When the man and two women from the catering company clear away the plates and big platters, Louis’s hand sneaks under the table to rub Greg’s thigh. Greg smiles at the woman he’s talking to (somebody Louis invited, probably, he hasn’t met her) and puts his own hand over Louis’s as a signal that absolutely no funny business will be tolerated.

 

Louis doesn’t seem to get the message though, and as chocolate truffle cake and tiramisu and something that looks orangey is being placed and passed, he sneaks his hand close to Greg’s groin, rubbing and making Greg shift in his seat. He cuts his eyes to Louis, and tries to frown at him. (He can’t. Louis’s just grinning at him, and like a reflex he can’t help, he just grins back. Stupid perk to dating somebody younger than him, maybe. It gives Greg a little leeway to be a bit irresponsible sometimes.)

 

The rest of the evening goes by like that, through dessert and coffee. By the time everyone’s said their goodbyes and the caterers have packed up their van, Louis is yawning into Greg’s shoulder and tugging the two of them over to the couch. Greg lets himself be pulled, pushed into the sofa. Louis drops himself into Greg’s lap, leaning back so they’re pressed together, back-to-front with Greg’s arms around Louis’s waist.

 

Louis’s eyes flutter shut when Greg’s fingers make little circles on Louis’s belly. He gets a little groan from Lou when his hands dip a bit lower. Louis’s been teasing all night, it’s time he got a taste of his own medicine.  

 

Greg tugs at the soft gray knit, and Louis’s hands reach out and settle on Greg’s wrists while Greg lifts the sweater enough so that his hands now rest on Louis’s bare belly. It’s firm and muscled but it’s got a teeny little curve pushing out from the delicious dinner, and Greg lets his fingers run along it, spelling out words with his fingertip that Louis won’t be able to discern.

 

When Louis’s hips shift a little, Greg dips his fingers into Lou’s waistband. The button on the outrageously turquoise pants pops open easily enough, and Louis’s eyes are still shut when Greg’s hands drift. Greg listens to Louis’s soft little sighs when he runs a finger lightly over his bulge.

 

“What am I going to do with you?” murmurs Greg into Louis’s ear. “You’ve been wanting this all night.” At that, Louis’s dick twitches, and Greg grins where his mouth is pressed beneath Louis’s ear. “Really, doll. You were running around in my jumper. Couldn’t have me close enough to you all the time?” He keeps rubbing against Louis now, just enough to lead into something else, maybe. “Do you like how it’s too tight ‘round your bum? Meant to tease me?” Greg nips at Louis’s neck now, and Louis is wriggling more than ever now, managing to twist backwards as he lets go of Greg’s wrist and grabs his face for a kiss. It’s dirty almost right away, Louis slobbering a little all over Greg’s lower lip and wet noises as they kiss, even as Louis spins his whole body around to face Greg.

 

“I should’ve taken off my pants,” Louis pants against Greg’s lips. “Then maybe you’d actually _touch_ me,” he complains. “Your hands are too fucking big to just fit down there when I’m still wearing them,” he huffs.

 

“You would’ve taken them off while the catering guys are still in the kitchen? Would’ve just stripped down so I could keep touching you under _my_ sweater, even with them in the other room?”

 

Louis’s still perched in his lap, and his eyes are wide as he bounces a little, trying to create fiction for himself where there is none. “You... you can’t _say_ shit like that,” he whimpers.

 

“Why?” Greg challenges. “You like that?” he murmurs, almost sweetly, and strokes a finger down Louis’s cheek before crooking it under Lou’s chin to bring him closer again.

 

Louis’s whimper is lost as he cants his hips like he’s riding Greg already. “Upstairs?”

 

Greg pauses before he answers, lets Louis think about being made to wait on the couch like a good boy.

 

“I think it’s funny... somebody called you innocent today,” Greg says easily. He slowly stands up, hands tucking around Louis’s bum to hold him as he moves towards the stairs. Louis’s legs clench tightly around Greg’s waist, like he can press himself even further into Greg by holding on tighter. Greg runs a soothing hand over Louis’s back, dipped under the sweater.

 

When they get to the bedroom, Greg unlatches Louis and sets him down before sinking back onto the bed. “I laughed, because you’ve been teasing all night, trying to touch me. And yet I could tell you to do anything right now and you would.” Louis’s leaning on the door like he can’t hold himself up, hasn’t moved since Greg put him down. He licks his lips and his eyes track the movement of Greg’s hands toward his own waistband.

 

“C’mere,” Greg says softly. He crosses his hand behind his head, leaning against the headboard.

 

Louis stumbles toward the bed, climbing on and quickly straddling Greg, leaning in for a kiss. “Can I...” he trails on when he gets a hand around Greg, who is half hard and currently has his hands tangled in Louis’s- _his_ \- sweater.

 

“What?” Greg’s secretly pleased that he can sit back and let Louis do whatever he likes right now. He’s just so light that it isn’t uncomfortable when he grinds down and rubs and wiggles up and down Greg’s body. He sucks in a gasp when Louis licks a strip from his belly button to his waistband, then feels his button be undone.

 

“Keep up, Greg, honestly don’t know how we’re still dressed,” comes a rushed mutter from Louis, who’s rocked back now and stripping off his sweater before kneeling down again to give Greg’s ribs little kisses. “Can I ride you tonight?” Louis’s eyes are so big and wide and blue in the dusky light of the room, and he has a hand on one of his own nipples and is tweaking it already. Jesus. He could at least wait for Greg to get undressed.

 

“‘S that what you want?” Greg teases again. “I bet I could make you beg...” he muses. “I could have you get yourself ready for a little while, just let me sit back and watch. Would you like that?”

 

Louis’s eyes squeeze shut and his hips grind down on Greg’s, and the fingers that were twisting his nipple skims down lower.

 

“Then again, you’ve been ready since before the party, isn’t that right?” Greg’s voice has dropped now and he’s speaking slowly. He lets his own hands settle on Louis’s thigh and squeezes gently. “I wouldn’t want to make you wait too long. You seem quite desperate as it is, trying to get a grope in during our nice polite dinner. Kind of slutty of you, no?” Louis whimpers when Greg drags his hands away from where he’s touching himself. “Why don’t you let me fuck you hard enough for you to feel it tomorrow?” he suggests, dipping a finger in Louis’s mouth.

 

The younger boy’s lips have already closed around Greg’s finger and he starts sucking as he nods his head, huge eyes completely focused on Greg’s.

 

Louis doesn’t blink when Greg takes back his finger and runs his hand down Louis’s chests, bumping over his nipples, sliding down his stomach, tugs at the stupid turquoise pants. “Scoot up a little,” Greg instructs. His eyes flick up to see how Louis’s doing and Greg feels himself harden more at the sight of Louis now sucking on his own finger, like he just _has_ to have _something_ in his mouth.

 

Greg yanks at the colorful pants while Louis balances on his knees in front of him and watches, until Greg pushes Louis down so he can untangle them around Louis’s ankles and drop them to the floor. He takes a second to flail out of his own jeans and by then, Louis’s lost his underwear and is laying on the bed with his legs spread open, one wet finger playing with his hole.

 

It’s such a pretty sight that Greg lets himself watch for a few seconds, before reaching for the nightstand table drawer.

 

He works quickly at slicking his fingers up, but presses little kisses around Louis’s finger before he begins. Greg’s first finger slides in easily until the first knuckle, where he has to move it in circles until Louis’s comfortable moving his hips, not feeling anything yet. He pushes in another finger, watching Louis open up in front of his eyes. Not just in front of him, really, and not just watching. He can hear Louis’s little grunts when Greg moves a certain way, he can taste salt on the back of Louis’s knee when he presses a quick kiss there. He can see Louis’s hand clutching his thigh and feel the other on the back of his neck.

 

Greg moves up Louis when he’s taken three fingers, letting Louis ride them while he nuzzles up Louis’s happy trail and up to his nipples. He licks the first one quickly, sees it harden and point up a little. He smirks when Louis’s chest jumps with an intake of breath when he lightly bites the other, a shuddered _Ohhh_ released.

 

“ _C’monnnnn_ ,” Louis hisses. He hasn’t touched himself yet, Greg’s impressed.

 

“Alright, love?”

 

Louis doesn't answer, instead rucks his hips down so Greg hits his sweet spot and lets loose a moan that makes Greg’s dick twitch.

 

Greg harshly draws his fingers out, sees Louis clench down and then hears him make a mrrrr noise when there suddenly isn’t anything there for him. Using his arms under Louis’s thighs to keep them open, he scoops the smaller man up and reverses their positions so instead of Greg hovering around Louis’s cock, Greg’s now sitting against the headboard again with Louis straddling him. This time, Greg’s cock bumps up against the tanned small of Louis’s back, smearing clear precome into the shallow dip of skin.

 

“Can I, please... Greg, I want... Can I...” Louis’s panting a little, fingers leaving angry red scratch marks on Greg’s chest in an effort not to touch himself.

 

“Yeah, little one?” The effect of Greg’s words on Louis is immediate. His face flushes and his eyes roll up like he can’t look Greg in the eye, and his hands automatically reach up to brush a nipple. Greg feels rather than sees Louis’s dick drip precome, forming a small puddle on Greg’s stomach.

 

“Can I now? R-ride you, I mean.”

 

Greg reaches for Louis’s hands, laces their fingers together. “Yeah, baby. Kiss me first, then you can do what you want.”

 

Louis leans down gratefully, eyes shut as he dips his tongue into Greg’s mouth. Greg tries to be as reassuring as possible, the kiss is gentle until Louis makes a small noise and lets go of Greg’s hands so he can reach behind himself to line Greg up with himself.

 

Greg knows it _has_ to ache a little, three fingers doesn’t compare, the prep wasn’t that thorough, Louis’s just so small on top of him... and while a little concern out of love lingers in the back of his mind, Greg’s mind is suddenly blanking out, the pressure of Louis around him being too much, making him arch up with a guttural groan and making Louis grin down at him.

 

When he’s settled back against the bed, Louis’s sunk down further and is poised above him, seemingly serene, completely still, waiting for himself to accommodate Greg.

 

Soon though, oh so soon, Louis’s swiveling his hips back and forth, reaching for himself and tugging lightly with one hand while the other rests on his belly.

 

Greg drinks it all in, tries to keep his eyes open against his own will so he can see Louis enjoy himself. When Louis gets to ride Greg, he almost always ends up with a content smile at first as he strokes himself... he’s always touching himself, rubbing his belly or pinching a nipple and twisting it till Greg either reaches up to help him out of slap his hands away in scolding.

 

That’s just the first part, though. While Louis gets himself comfortable, plays with himself a little, he gets himself worked up. If Greg lets him touch himself long enough, it doesn’t take much to make Louis whiny and vocal. Then from there, Greg’s only mission is to make Louis lose the power of speech. It’s quite interesting, Greg realizes, that he knows Louis so well that he can predict sex. Not that things are boring, he enjoys everything each time, just... he feels special, then, when they have sex. He’s the one who gets to know _consistently_ what Louis is like.

 

Speaking of... Louis’s using his thighs to rock himself up and down now, slowly. He starts to pick up speed a little, and Greg watches in fascination as he rhythmically disappears into Louis over and over. It’s so incredibly hard not to push back, but he’s letting Louis take what he wants.

 

“Doing so good, baby,” Greg murmurs, one big hand covering Louis’s back, feeling him move up and down, up and down. Louis whimpers and raises himself up so much that Greg slips out, and Louis groans when he sinks down onto nothing.

 

Greg takes the opportunity to lean up and slide Louis so that Louis’s on his back, looking up at Greg with flushed cheeks and hair ruffled into a million directions. “Please?” he whispers, gaze inches from Greg’s, and Greg closes the distance so that they’re pressed together, their lips and chests and fingers and hips, everywhere. It’s tender, before Louis reaches for Greg and tugs helpfully to get his point across.

 

Greg gets the point. His moans mix with Louis’s when he’s pushed in again, and Louis nearly whimpers from the sensation. He was controlling the angle earlier, dragging things out for Greg and therefore holding out on himself, but now Greg’s situated so that every thrust is intense and sends miniature explosions of heat rocking up from Louis’s abdomen to his brain and down to his toes, making them curl.

 

“...so...big,” Louis gets out on gasps.

 

“Too big for you, little one? Can you take it? You were doing so well earlier,” Greg asks. His hands are on either side of Louis’s shoulders, and if Greg were to lower himself even more, he’d basically blanket the younger man. He looks especially small when he’s laid out under Greg, just desperate for whatever more Greg will give him.

 

Louis doesn’t respond except to reach up and clutch Greg’s shoulders and roll his hips to meet Greg’s thrusts.

 

“The only thing,” Greg pants, words punctuated by the slap of skin on skin, “is that like this, I can’t see that delicious bum of your’s.”

 

Louis keens, makes to move a hand down and touch himself, but Greg balances on one hand so he can pin Louis’s wrist back, tutting a disapproving noise. Louis absolutely shudders and it’s all Greg can do to not look at the writhing, squirmy boy under him and come.

 

The hand Louis still has on Greg’s shoulder tangles up in his hair, and Louis yanks. “C’mon,” he whimpers. He tugs again, and Greg moans low when Louis starts and doesn’t shut up. “Oh my God, Greg, c’mon, you’re so big, you said you’d make me feel it, c’mon, oh my _God_ ,” and it’s like he doesn’t even know what he’s saying because it’s just one long babbled stream of words. Greg knows from seeing Louis perform and how he is in interviewers that he likes the attention, he can be obnoxious and loud. Now is one of those times, when Greg’s positive if they had guests over, they’d be able to hear Louis downstairs.

 

“Insatiable,” Greg teases. He lets go of where he’s pinned Louis’s wrist to the bed and reaches for a nipple. When Greg pinches the little hardened nub, Louis’s words fade into just loud _noise_ , and Louis’s hips are moving so hard that Greg is huffing just trying to keep up. Perks of having a younger, athletic boyfriend who is an attention hog? He’s loud and active in bed. (Greg loves it.)

 

He’s been on the edge now and can feel himself quickly unravel when Louis’s just making _ugn, ugn, ugn_ noises, around the finger that he’s stuck back in his mouth, eyes fluttering shut. Greg reaches between the two of them to thumb over the head of Louis’s cock, the vein. Louis’s eyes fly open, and they’re bright like they’re about to water or Louis’s gonna cry, and Greg squeezes tightly before jacking Louis in the same rhythm as his hips are snapping forward.

 

“You can come, little one,” Greg whispers, and Louis makes an outrageous sound and spurts, his fingernails digging into Greg’s skin while come is smeared into Greg’s skin where they’re pressed together now, Greg having sunk down closer to Louis’s body in a struggle to hold himself up.

  
  


Louis’s started whimpering again, the sensation of Greg pounding into him over-bright and sharpened now that he’s come, and it’s beginning to feel like he’ll just come again because _Greg hasn’t stopped, oh God,_ he can feel it building, before Greg slips out, sensing that Louis’s overwhelmed.

 

Greg whispers “touch me” into the shell of Louis’s ear, and Louis is quick to comply. He reaches between them while Greg cradles Louis’s face in one hand and kisses him, like a true Disney prince in a movie. It’s sweet and so dirty at the same moment, when Greg’s giving Lou such a sweet kiss but also imagining how his dick must look, wrapped up in Louis’s little hands, thin fingers stretching to wrap around... The mental image is what takes him over the edge, and he comes in pulses against Louis’s fist. Louis slows down, gentle, before rubbing his foot over the back of Greg’s calf and pressing tightly together. Both his hands are rubbing all over Greg’s back and neck and hair and Greg doesn’t even care that he’s getting sticky all over from Louis’s hand, not when they’re still kissing and sweaty and coming down from mutual orgasms.

 

“We should have dinner parties more often if it makes you that horny,” Greg teases before nipping Louis’s lower lip again.

 

“Shut up,” answers Louis (just a tad huffily). “I blame the fucking sweater.”

 

“Since when does a sweater make you want to have sex with me? If it’s true, I’m never letting you wash that sweater, you know. You’re gonna have to wear it every day.” Greg’s tone is serious but he’s grinning against Louis’s neck as he nuzzles it, feeling Lou’s five o’ clock shadow rub roughly against his face.

 

“Nah, it’s just you always look quite fit in it. And like. It smelled like you. And was really soft. And when I was getting changed for the party, I just... it was quite soft. I almost did come down without pants on, you know. It was soft... everywhere?”

 

“Please tell me you didn’t rub yourself off on my sweater before you wore it to host a semi formal dinner party, where my esteemed colleagues and friends watched us flirt all night and saw how getting you drunk makes you all touchy.”

 

Louis scoffs, his fingers doodling designs on Greg’s back. His legs are still opened wide under Greg. “I’m always touchy, I don’t need to be drunk for that. And, uh... No?” He giggles at himself, knows that Greg knows he’s lying.

 

“...What am I going to do with you, Louis Tomlinson?” Greg mutters, just pretending to be stern while he rolls his eyes at his boyfriend.

 

“I was thinking spank me, later. Maybe tomorrow?” Louis asks, even-toned and with a smile that could only be described as angelic. He bats his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering up and down.

 

“Oh my God.” Greg rolls off Louis and throws an arm over his face. “What did I do to get you as a boyfriend?”

 

Louis just rolls on his side and kisses Greg’s shoulder. “You gave me champagne and strawberries at my hotel once.” Greg smiles a little. “And seriously, when did I start becoming the ‘innocent’ one to people? You’re the one who said all that... stuff, earlier. I can’t believe you called me little.”

 

“Ah, love, but you’re just so cute and adorable--” Greg’s cut off when Louis rolls on top of him and kisses him deeply.

 

“Shut up.” And he does.

**Author's Note:**

> what are beginnings? what are endings? plot? what is plot? porn? how is that written? [i have some insecurities about this as i'm still pretty new to the game so.] linksies for aforementioned emma (will be here if i can figure out how to add links? she is bundleduplou on tumblr or sarcasticfluentry on here and if you didn't like this, i'd definitely recommend the grouis she's written!)
> 
> comments would be oh so appreciated so i could hear what people like/didn't :) (they do mean a lot, and i try to improve future stuff with them :) )


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